


The One Where They're Detectives

by Haze



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, DON'T BE FOOLED, Despite Looking Like a Fic This Is Not Actually a Fic, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Not!Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23785285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haze/pseuds/Haze
Summary: A not!fic inspired by a Tumblr post. Frank is a hardened homicide detective for Newark PD. Gerard is his newest rookie. They fight crime! (Peripherally.)
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	The One Where They're Detectives

**Author's Note:**

> [This picture of Frank gave me an idea,](https://justlookatthewheat.tumblr.com/post/615972507489648640/awsugar-pics-of-frank-that-make-me-want-to) and I started bandying it around to my friends, and a couple people asked me to expand on the idea, and then I sat down and wrote this whole thing in 30 hours. The bulk of it was was written in about 12. It's kind of a not!fic on steroids. Thanks, quarantine!

So the premise is suchly, taken from my tags that inspired this whole mess:

Frank Iero, the antihero detective star of a police procedural who’s trying to live up to his father’s legacy. Has a hard time following procedure, hates paperwork, drinks too much and the bartender at the watering hole by his apartment Knows Him Too Well. Single minded focus on all his cases and neglects his basic needs until Justice Is Served. Haunted by his biggest case gone wrong where a little girl died tragically. He and his wife are divorced and while she doesn’t hate him she does resent that he chose The Work over his family. Whenever there’s a custody exchange there are many Shared Silent Long Glances. He loves his daughter but he never makes it to her recitals. Every time it’s his weekend he has to order takeout all the time because all that’s in his fridge is beer and mustard. She always invites him to her performances even though she knows better than to hope he’ll be there by now. The only times he does show up it’s halfway through and he has to leave after thirty seconds because Duty Calls. His ex wife confronts him about it one night and it devolves into the classic This Is Why I Left You speech; afterward he goes and gets way too fucked up at the watering hole by his apartment and shows up late to a crime scene the next morning due to The Mother of All hangovers, and who should be there waiting for him but a freshly promoted greenhorn detective by the name of Gerard way, a plucky former desk jockey with a hard on for justice.

Which brings us to ALL THIS! Some of the above made it into the not!fic, some of it didn't. I feel like this takes story takes place in early spring and our leads are in their mid-to-late thirties. And look, I know Frank hates cops and we all hate cops and down with cops but it's _MY_ quarantine and _I_ get to pick the AU to cope!

Alright, so hungover Frank's all like "Oh God an FNG,” because he feels like shit run over twice and Greenie just. won't. shut. up. (FNG = Fuckin' New Guy.)

Gerard GUSHING "Oh my God you're such a legend I've heard so much about you I can't believe we're gonna work together you're so fucking cool holy shit" and Frank's barely listening because he's barely A Person this early in the morning so he's chugging down coffee (that has a lil whiskey in it because hair of the dog is legit how Frank deals with all of his hangovers) while getting a run-down from the presiding cop on scene. It Looks Like A Straightforward Case. Break-in gone wrong, what are ya gonna do, it's just Jersey, man.

Victim is young, though. Can't be older than twenty-five. That bothers Frank, but he doesn't let it show, he just has A Moment while inspecting the scene.

It's the wound that bothers him most. A clean shot straight to the brain stem, execution-style. Too clean to be a true break-in-gone-wrong type deal. His first thought is organized crime - 

"This looks like a Mafia thing," says the new guy right directly in Frank's ear which almost makes him pour hot coffee all over their dead john, and Frank gets up from the floor and glares a hole through the new guy's forehead.

"Listen. Jared. I'm only gonna say this once. As the FNG, it's your job to stay as quiet as humanly possible while i'm working - I know that'll be a stretch for you, but give it your best shot - and to fill out my paperwork at the end of this case. That's all. I don't need you distracting me, I don't need your input, and I especially don't need the motormouth at FUCKING eight in the FUCKING morning."

He ditches Gerard at the scene and calls his superior, Brian, to ask him what the fuck he did to deserve the most annoying new guy in all New Jersey, and Brian's all "Gerard's our biggest rising star and I need him trained by our best, which is you, even though you're an asshole who drinks too much and couldn't follow procedure if it was a hot blonde with an ass like Beyonce covered in flashing neon."

Frank then calls Gerard and puts him in charge of discovery, finding out everything he can about their john, where he works, who his friends are, his parents, all that kind of shit. Focus on his movements in the last 24 hours and make a list of everyone he so much as made eye contact with and I'll talk to them. Gerard's all "OOH ARE WE GONNA INTERROGATE PEOPLE" and Frank's like "WE are not going to do anything. YOU are gonna make me that list, and _I_ am gonna go buy flowers for my second grader."

Because he and his daughter - whose name is Polly Jean, aka PJ - have a weekly date no matter WHAT on Wednesday nights at the Italian place he and his ex-wife Jamia used to go on all their dates at. They get dressed up. It's whole thing. And of course it's in the mIDDLE of this that Gerard fucking shows up with his list all excited and he STOPS DEAD when he sees PJ. And Frank's livid. He drags Gerard's ass outside and pokes him in the sternum all "You DO NOT interrupt my time with MY KID is that ABUNDANTLY clear"

The next morning Gerard brings him a coffee as a mea culpa and while they're on their way to start talking to their john's network he's all "You know your daughter's beautiful, she looks just like you" and Frank's like "shut up"

Gerard, of course, does not shut up and starts going on about how he doesn't have any kids or any family really but he does have a brother in California and he misses him but there's no way Mikey could have stayed in Jersey after - and then he just. Stops. Of his own accord and Frank looks over at him and Gerard is all but clamping a hand over his own mouth, and since he's stopped talking Frank decides the blessed silence beats whatever curiosity he has about why the brother skipped town. Probably got in some kind of trouble. Lots of people do.

While they're driving all over the greater Newark area, Gerard doesn't talk any more about Mikey but he DOES ask Frank a million and one questions about PJ, which Frank juuuuust tolerates because honestly his kid is the best thing he's ever done and he could talk about her for ever. What's her name (PJ, as in Harvey), how old is she (seven and three quarters), what does she like (dancing, puppies, Disney), have you taken her to Disney World (no, never had enough time off work), are you and her mom - and Frank glares Gerard back into silence until Gerard Gets the Picture.

So blah blah blah, they talk to their john's contacts, stuff related to crime solving, whatever boring. (The biggest reason this is a not!fic is because I don't want to bother having to ACTUALLY write a police procedural.)

Later Frank's sitting at his desk in near darkness poring over files and shit and Gerard's on his way out the door to go home, he stops in Frank's doorway and he's like "Uh, Frank. It's like. It's almost midnight dude" and Frank's like "Mm" and Gerard's all "Don't you need to sleep or something" and Frank's like "Nope" and Gerard's like "I really think you should get some sleep" and Frank slaps down his file in annoyance and is all "I sleep when whoever killed John Doe is in prison, okay? Don't worry about it. See you in the morning"

And it seems like Gerard just sort of accepts it and leaves, but then half an hour later he's back with PILES of Chinese takeout cartons and like, a gallon of coffee and is like "Alright let's fuckin do this" and it's the first time one of Frank's FNGs has done anything like that. and Frank's Floored. But of course he doesn't let on and just launches into a diatribe about one of John Doe's sketchy dockworker friends while pouring himself a huge cup of coffee and grabbing the peanut noodles.

So like later they're following up on leads and they hit sort of a dead end. Frank admits as much. and Gerard's like "Ah sweet so now we go get a beer right" and Frank's like "What" and Gerard's like. "You know. Fermented grain beverage. Looks like and tastes like piss but gets the job done" and Frank's like "What" and Gerard runs his hands though his hair in exasperation and goes "A NIGHT OFF, FRANK. DO YOU WANT TO GO GET A BEER. TOGETHER. SINCE WE HAVE THE NIGHT OFF." and Frank's like "You...want to drink beer. With me." and Gerard's like "Well yeah I thought we could talk about the case without Talking about it you know" and Frank's like "Oh...oh right yeah. Totally. A Discussing-The-Case beer." And he SQUASHES down a vague sense of disappointment because why would he be disappointed that his over-eager greenhorn wants to talk shop instead of just hang out or whatever. Why would he want to hang out with his FNG anyway. Whatever.

So they head down to Frank's watering hole and Dewees the bartender is like "Shit Frank I thought you were dead I haven't seen you in like TWO WHOLE DAYS" and Frank's like "Shut up asshole" and Dewees is like "Who is this handsome young man you have with you" while waggling his eyebrows and Frank FLUSHES and can't even get the words out so Gerard just kind of steps in awkwardly like "Hi hello I'm his partner" and Dewees looks at Frank in shock and goes "YOU HAVE A PARTNER AND I HAVE NEVER MET HIM" and both Frank and Gerard are like madly blushing and in unison they go "WORK PARTNERS"

They drink and at first it's all work stuff but the more they drink the more personal it gets until eventually they're just. Telling each other about their lives. Gerard tells Frank about how he went to art school but after 9/11 he realized he needed to do something bigger and joined the force. Frank tells Gerard about how he went into it because his dad was a bigshot homicide detective and he wanted to be just like him. How he died right before Frank was supposed to graduate from the academy. And Gerard tells him about his grandma, and how she always thought he should've stuck with art, and about how her last words to him were along the lines of "you need to follow your heart, because no matter where it leads you, it'll always be to the right place." Frank tells him about how he and Jamia were high school sweethearts, and they got married as soon as they graduated, and they were so young and dumb and naive. About how PJ was a surprise to an already-crumbling marriage, that finally collapsed when PJ was about five. And how he wanted to choose her and Jamia but just...couldn't, because his dad, you know?

And Gerard goes "You know, for an asshole who doesn't have any feelings, you sure care a whole lot about everything."

Eventually it's like two in the morning and Dewees is closing up and Gerard realizes he's too drunk to drive home. And frank's too drunk to drive him home. And the cabs don't run this late in this part of Newark.

But Frank's apartment is right up the street!

So Frank's like "It's not much" and they walk in and Gerard's all "Oh I thought you were being like. Humble but oh wow you like. You don't have any furniture" and Frank's like "Thanks, dickhead"

He DOES have a couch, though, and a coffee table, and a TV on a TV stand, and those little folding trays to eat dinner off of, and a window AC unit, and a radiator. And a guitar, which is the only non-utilitarian object in the apartment (there aren't even crayon drawings for decoration, it's so dire), and as such, Gerard is immediately drawn to the guitar, running his fingers over it, all "Do you play?" and Frank's like "Used to. When I was a kid. Don't have much time for it now" and Gerard kind of says without thinking "I bet you play with all your heart." And Frank sort of freezes where he's grabbing a glass down from the cabinet to fill with water for Gerard for when he wakes up. And in the end he huffs out this bitter laugh and he goes "Can't play with what you don't have, can you?" and puts the glass on the coffee table. He goes and grabs a spare blanket off his bed and a pillow and deposits them on the couch for Gerard and Gerard's getting settled and Frank goes to turn off the kitchen light and he hears Gerard go, so softly, "It's not wrong to love things, Frank."

The next morning, there's coffee in the pot but Gerard's gone. The water glass is in the sink and the blanket's folded on the arm of the couch with the pillow on top of it and Frank feels sort of...weird, looking at it, and doesn't know why.

More case things, crime busters, so on and so forth. Police shit.

They're checking out some new Lead thing when Gerard gets a phone call on his work cell and practically sprints out of the room to pick it up. Frank, concerned, doesn't quite tail him out of the room but subtly puts himself in a place to Eavesdrop, and he hears Gerard angrily whispering "Dude, I told you not to call me on this phone unless it was an emergency! ... Jesus, Mikey, that's not ... I sent you two hundred not even three days ago! ... This better not be for - ... Look, I can't deal with this right now. I'm working. I'll call you later." And then he hangs up and Frank hastens to pretend to be Extremely Busy when Gerard comes back in with a plastered on smile and an apology.

Frank of course doesn't push it but he's definitely got Questions and Suspicions about Mikey now. And Gerard acts like he's unbothered and like everything's just business as usual, but Frank can tell he's distracted, and finally Frank pulls him aside and is like "Go home" and Gerard's like "What do you mean I'm fine everything's fine" and Frank's like "Go. Home." and Gerard's like "...Okay fine but tell me if you need me" and RUNS off and Frank makes a note to look up Mikey in the system later.

Later Frank's on his way back to the office and Jamia calls him and asks if he could take PJ for the night, she knows it's not his night but she COMPLETELY forgot that she had a date tonight, she would owe Frank big time if he could do it just this once, and Frank's like OOF OUCH but of course he agrees, and when he swings by to pick PJ up Jamia runs in looking Gorgeous and Frank is like. Openly Pining but he swallows it back down and nods in all the right places when she tells him about what PJ will need for tomorrow, because it's a recital night, and please Frank can you do your best to be there, and Frank's like "no promises" and Jamia just sighs at him before she gets a text from her date that he's outside and Frank tries not to look at who's picking her up but of course he does, and the guy is like, his total opposite, some tall blonde fucker built like a brick shithouse and he's got flowers for her and Frank has to go splash some cold water on his face so as not to punch a wall in front of his kid and when he comes back out Jamia and her date are gone.

So back at Frank's terrible apartment, PJ's practicing her recital routine while Frank is poring through his collection of takeout menus in search of something that they haven't eaten four million times when there's a knock at the door and Frank opens it to find Gerard holding pizza, and Gerard's like "So I know you're probably sick of me but I had a thought about the case earlier and I wanted to say thank you for letting me get my head back on straight so I brought pizza can I come in" and Frank's like "Uh um well" and then PJ appears at his side and Gerard's like "OH" and like, Panics because the last time he accidentally intruded on Frank's time with PJ he got chewed out for it so he just. SHOVES the pizza box at Frank and strangles out an apology and starts to bolt down the hall when Frank stops him like "No it's fine uh do you want to uh. Come in." And Gerard's like "What" and then PJ goes "Do you want to see my dance. I'm a very good dancer." And Gerard looks at her and then looks at Frank who just sort of smiles in a kids-what-can-you-do sort of way and Gerard looks back at PJ and is like "Yes. Yes I would LOVE to see your dance.”

Frank introduces them properly of course once Gerard comes in, "this is Daddy's work friend," and they eat pizza and PJ does her dance and Gerard applauds like he's at the fucking Met Opera and PJ's so excited to have a fresh audience that she does it two more times, and makes him PROMISE that he'll come to her recital tomorrow night, and then when they run out of pizza and Gerard's like "Well I should get going" PJ grabs his hand and is like "NO WE'RE GOING TO WATCH THE LITTLE MERMAID NOW." And Gerard looks at Frank and Frank's like "It's...it's our favorite. Um. Disney movie." and Gerard's like "Holy shit me TOO" and so they watch The Little Mermaid and Gerard and PJ sing all the songs together and Gerard does the STUPIDEST little pantomime and voice for “Les Poissons" that makes PJ laugh her little head off.

And by the end of the movie PJ's passed the fuck out in Gerard's lap and Gerard's got his arms around her and is also starting to nod off and Frank's cleaning up the remains of pizza and he happens to look up and see them all cuddly and he just. Stops. Dead. _OH NO_ , he sees in bright red across his whole brain. He very gently disentangles them to put PJ to bed, and when he comes back Gerard's sitting up rubbing his eyes and yawning and apologizing for falling asleep, he'll just get going, thanks for letting him hang out, PJ's adorable, and Frank's like "OKAY YEAH UH SEE YOU TOMORROW THANKS FOR THE PIZZA" and lets Gerard go out into the night and Frank just flops onto his couch and presses his hands over his eyes and groans, because he thinks he might be fucked.

Frank drops PJ off at school the next day and heads into work and Gerard, mysteriously, isn't there. He's not usually late so Frank calls him, to no reply. Whatever, maybe Gerard just slept late, he'll just head out to talk to their latest POI (one Ray Toro) himself and catch Gerard up later. He pulls up on a street near West Hudson Park, and to his surprise, there's Gerard already talking to their guy. But not in the usual cop way. He looks Shifty as Hell. So Frank parks a little ways down the road and just watches for a little while. Finally, he sees Gerard pull out an envelope and quickly hand it over to the guy, who disappears it into his coat and then vanishes into the house. Gerard walks back to his car, looks around nervously, and gets into it, and then pulls out his cell phone. Frank's phone starts ringing.

"Frank, hi, I'm so sorry I WAY overslept last night and I just woke up, are you already out of the station? I can come meet you!"

And Frank's like. Who The Fuck Did I Introduce My Child To. Frank You Imbecile. Jesus Christ.

But because he's an excellent detective, the best on the force In Fact, Frank doesn't let on and he tells Gerard not to worry about it, could you follow up on XYZ lead down in Woodbridge though, I need to get back to my desk I think I'm onto something. And goes straight back to the station and starts doing a deep dive on all things Brothers Way.

Gerard's file is pretty clean, all things considered. A couple misdemeanors. Public intoxication, being out after curfew, kid stuff. Mikey, though - Mikey's been In Some Shit. Michael James Way's rap sheet starts out with what turns out to be a non-sequitur: a note from the FBI, about pirating Disney movies when he was in high school. It almost looks like a joke, especially compared to the rest of it. His charges and convictions follow a timeline that Frank understands without needing to think too hard. Misdemeanor possession, times three. Felony possession, charged but not convicted due to first offense, contingent upon court-ordered rehab and probation. Shoplifting, times two, the latter of which procured three months jail time. A string of transience-related arrests. And finally, felony drug possession with intent to distribute, convicted, sentenced to five years prison. Served two, released on probation for good behavior. Probation ended six months to the day before frank got assigned Gerard.

No wonder Gerard didn't want Frank to know about Mikey.

That still didn't explain why he'd caught Gerard giving a mysterious envelope to a POI in a homicide case, though. He's going to have to talk to Gerard himself. Maybe it's got something to do with Mikey and Gerard's just looking out for his little brother. (He really, really wants to give Gerard the benefit of the doubt, but at the same time, he needs to be diligent, here. Gerard met his _kid_.)

He waits until Gerard returns from following up on the (bullshit) Woodbridge lead, and then asks him to come down to the interrogation boxes with him. Gerard's Fucking Stoked, thinking that Frank found a real suspect, that they're gonna get to interview them together, they're finally making some real progress, and Frank just nods along and opens the door for him and tells him to pick a side of the table and just sit, and Gerard does, still talking excitedly about his first real interrogation, and then Frank closes the door and drops Mikey's file onto the table between them. And he sits on the opposite side from Gerard, and folds his hands on the table, and just. Stares at him.

Gerard is not stupid. You don't get to be a homicide detective-in-training by being an idiot. He instantly pales as the penny drops.

"So," says Frank, in that icy way he's famous for among the other detectives. "You've been keeping one hell of a secret from me, _partner_."

And Gerard is, of course, Fully Freaking Out. "Jesus. Okay, um. Look. Mikey's not - he's not in legal trouble anymore. He did his time, he figured it out, he's clean now. I - I got him into a facility in California, as far away from Jersey as I could manage, and he's doing - better. He'll be okay. Eventually. I'm sorry i didn't tell you - " and Frank pulls out his phone, displaying a picture Frank took of Gerard handing Ray Toro an envelope, and without preamble slides it across the table. Gerard goes silent, and if possible, even paler.

"You know, you were the one to put Toro on our radar for this case," says Frank, almost conversationally. "Not every day you get a dirty cop who'll implicate their associates themselves. That takes balls."

Gerard finally finds his tongue again. "I'm not a dirty cop." He drags his hands through his hair in distress. "Frank, I'm not. Ray's my friend. I put him down as a POI because John Doe used to work for him at the Toro family's restaurant, Ray manages it now. The envelope - " Gerard sighs, and sags in his chair, looking suddenly drained. "Mikey knocked up his girlfriend. Before he went to prison the last time. And while he was in the tank, she OD'd, and it killed her and their baby. Ray's cousin has a funeral home and he got us a deal on the services, with a cash payment plan. Obviously with Mikey being - well, Mikey, I've been helping pay it off."

"And by helping," says Frank, when he's managed to pick his jaw up off the table, "you mean you've been paying it." 

Gerard closes his eyes. "Mikey's my brother. and I love him. Yes, he's made a lot of bad choices, but he's also very sick, and he's family." He opened his eyes again, and looked at Frank. "You understand."

Frank's at a loss. He blinks back at Gerard for a long time. "Why the fuck," he says at last, "did you not tell me about this sooner?"

Gerard scoffs at him then, angry, and Frank frowns in surprise. "Jesus Christ, Frank, you're the smartest motherfucking detective in New Jersey. You're a legend. I was already nervous as shit just being in your presence, you think i was gonna tell you that my brother's practically got a cell with his name on it down in the basement? I wanted to impress you by being a good detective, not disappoint you before we'd even started tracking suspects.”

Gerard stands then, crosses his arms over his chest. "Well, congratulations, Detective Iero. Another one for the books. Am I being held, or am I free to go?" he asks, sarcasm poisoning his last words, and with that, he storms out. Frank lets him.

Hours later, once Frank's had some time to think about it and realizes that he's the asshole here, he goes and picks up one of those insanely complicated, fancy coffee drinks Gerard likes from the shop across the way and stops by his desk to drop it off and apologize. But Gerard's not there. Frank asks the guy Gerard shares his office with (Detective Lazzara? He thinks? They've never actually said more than, like, a couple of words to each other) where Gerard went. The guy tells him that Gerard left about an hour ago, saying something about some kid's dance recital. "Maybe his niece's? I didn't, you know, grill him or anything," says the guy, and Frank just sort of blinks at him before the pieces slot together in his brain. Gerard went to PJ's dance recital?

He texts Jamia, on his way to PJ's school. _Did a guy named gerard show up to PJ's recital?_ A few minutes later, the response: _You mean your partner? Yes. PJ invited him, apparently. Why did your partner show up to your daughter's dance recital, and not you?_

Frank bashes his palm against his forehead. Fuck, he is so the asshole here. He's the Grand Poobah of assholes. He runs in to the auditorium in the middle of the routine, as usual, and PJ waves at him from her spot on the end. Frank manages a wave back, and spots Gerard and Jamia sitting in the audience - together, oh no - with an empty seat beside Gerard that Frank slides into as inconspicuously as he can.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he whispers to Gerard, earning a disapproving sound from a mom behind them.

"PJ invited me to her recital last night, remember?" Gerard whispers back, primly. He shoots Frank a withering look. "I'm not gonna disappoint a seven year old, even if her father is a dick."

Jamia stifles a laugh with her hand. Frank gives her an incredulous look, and then turns to face front, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was doing my _job_ ," he insists, mostly to himself, and watches the rest of the dance recital without looking at Gerard at all.

Afterward, Gerard has flowers to give to PJ, and he gives her a hug and tells her what a great job she did, and Jamia takes advantage of the opportunity to drag Frank aside.

"You didn't tell me you were seeing someone," she says, and Frank turns instantly scarlet.

"Gerard's not - Jesus, Jamia, he's my _work_ partner," he hisses, and now that's two people he's close to that have mistaken them for dating, what the fuck gives?

And Jamia, though still unimpressed, also looks kind of relieved. "We're still agreed about potential partners, right?" she asks. "No one meets PJ until we've both vetted them?" and Frank nods, because duh, of course he still thinks that, and Jamia makes a Face all of a sudden, and Frank's stomach goes cold. "Okay. Because I think I have someone I want you to meet soon."

It's not Frank's turn with PJ until Friday night, so Jamia's the one to take her home, and Gerard sticks around with Frank to see them both off. Once she's gone, Gerard turns to Frank. "So."

"I'm sorry," Frank says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I shouldn't have snooped."

"No," says Gerard. "You should have. I would have done the same if the roles were reversed. That's not why I think you're a dick." He pulls out a pack of smokes, and hands one to Frank before lighting up. "I think you're a dick because you sent me on that Woodbridge lead when you knew there was nothing to it. They don't let me expense my gas or my turnpike fees yet, asshole."

Frank recognizes a pass when he's given one. Relieved, he digs a friendly elbow into Gerard's ribcage. "I gotta hassle you somehow. You're still my FNG, after all."

So they're back to good terms, they go back to work, tracking down clues and being Detectives and whatever, interlude for the police procedural part of this police procedural AU. Boring.

The next night, they're up late at the station, pounding coffee and chasing a lead. Their takeout's gone cold. Gerard is sitting cross legged on Frank's desk squinting at Frank's computer while Frank leans back in his desk chair with both hands over his eyes because they're burning from staring at the screen too long. They're getting really, really close though, so close it's frustrating because he's running on fumes and his brain just won't let him connect any more dots. Suddenly, Gerard swears at the computer, and then drops the keyboard on the desk with a clatter before switching off the monitor. "Fuck this," he declares. "It is two in the goddamn morning, we're not gonna solve this thing tonight."

"No, we can, we just have to - " Frank begins, but then yawns, and forgets the rest of what he was going to say. Gerard nods as though this confirms something.

"We're getting out of here. Come on, get your shit, I'll drop you off at your place."

It doesn't occur to Frank that this means leaving his car at the station. He does pack up, though, and follow Gerard down to his Beetle - seriously, a Beetle, it's both ridiculous and totally fitting for Gerard - where he deposits himself in the passenger seat with another huge yawn. They drive over to Frank's apartment without really saying much, the radio filling the silence, and Gerard parks outside his building; Frank starts to get out until he notices the huge bags under Gerard's eyes and the way he's sort of swaying behind the wheel he's holding with both hands. "You're gonna kill yourself if you try to drive home," Frank says, and pushes Gerard toward his door. "You're staying here tonight." Gerard puts up a cursory fight, but he's also clearly exhausted, so it's only thirty seconds before he's shutting off the engine and following frank up the stairs. He sets up the couch for Gerard again, and although sleep sounds really good and his body is definitely tired, Frank's mind is still too active with case stuff. so once Gerard's out, Frank sneaks back into the living room and grabs his guitar.

He'd sort of lied when he told Gerard he didn't play much anymore. Compared to when he was younger, yes, he definitely doesn't play as much, but he still picks up Pansy when he needs something to settle him. He wipes the dust off her neck and spends a minute tuning her before he starts idly plucking at her strings. He doesn't usually play songs on purpose. He does sometimes play them by accident, and he's halfway through Superstar before he realizes that's what he's playing, and he's almost through playing it when he realizes that he's being watched.

Gerard, standing in his bedroom doorway with the spare blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He's leaned up against the doorframe, a sort of dreamy look on his face, and Frank stops short. "I love The Carpenters," says Gerard, his voice hushed. "She's got the most incredible voice."

Frank feels caught, somehow. His cheeks burning, he drops both hands away from pansy and clears his throat. "Yeah. Uh. She does." He scratches the back of his neck. "I'm sorry I woke you - "

"Don't be," Gerard replies, instantly, and grins at him. The low light from Frank's nightstand lamp gives it a softness, and maybe Frank's imagining that Gerard's looking fondly at him because it's late and they're both tired and Gerard probably just really, really loves The Carpenters. "Play it again. Please. For me?" he asks. 

And how could Frank say no? Why is his heart racing?

He starts the song over again, focused on the strings, how they feel pressing into his fingertips. He closes his eyes, feeling the chords in his chest - right up until he hears Gerard start singing the first line, and then his eyes spring open again in shock. Holy shit. Holy shit, Gerard can _sing_. And he's in the original key, too, not in some sleepy dropped octave, and it's the most beautiful thing Frank's ever fucking heard. Somehow he doesn't drop Pansy on the floor, but he also can't pull his eyes away from Gerard's face.

Gerard sings like he wrote the fucking song. Like all the words, all the emotion, all the heartbreak is his. It makes Karen Carpenter look like a fucking karaoke knockoff of herself. Frank is - Frank is in danger of bursting into tears, here. Or ripping his own chest open to make room for his heart, which is suddenly ten times bigger.

The song ends. Frank sits in the following silence, entranced, and watches as Gerard slowly blinks eyes open again, and sends him a soft smile across the room. "Thank you," he murmurs. "I can't help but sing along with that song. It's that or I just start crying," he admits with a small, breathy laugh. "So, thanks for, um, indulging me." 

Frank is having trouble getting a full breath. "You didn't tell me you could sing." 

Gerard lifts a shoulder, drops it back down again. "It's just kinda for me." He wraps the blanket a little tighter around himself. "Well. Me and Mikey, when he was younger. And my grandma, because she taught me. And...and now you." He bites his lip, looking suddenly shy. "Anyway. I'll let you go back to - "

Frank almost rips the strap off the peg in his hurry to get it over his head and off, and he sets Pansy down on the comforter, and crosses the floor in three broad steps. "Gerard," he says. There are tears threatening at the backs of his eyes, and he still can't catch his breath, and Gerard looks at him, startled. His eyes are wide, and they're like amber in sunlight, and Frank has never felt this - this _brimming_ before. "Gerard," he says again, and then he kisses him.

Gerard's response is in three parts. Part one, which Frank sort of expects, is total shock. Sharp breath through the nose, frozen stiff, probably wondering why the fuck his partner is kissing him. Part two, which Frank doesn't expect, is Gerard reaching up to cradle either side of Frank's jaw and kiss him back, with enthusiasm, no less, and a tiny sound in the back of his throat that makes Frank slip an arm around Gerard's waist and press him even harder against the doorframe. Part three is probably inevitable, Frank figures. Part three is when Gerard shoves Frank back with a gasp, and stumbles back into the hallway, raising his fingers to his lips while he stares at Frank in wide-eyed panic. "Oh God. Oh, Frank. I - I'm sorry, I'm - fuck, I should go," and before Frank can unglue his tongue from the roof of his mouth Gerard dumps the blanket on the floor and runs to the living room, where Frank hears a frantic jangle of keys before the front door screeches open and thuds shut.

Oh. Oh, shit. Oh, _fuck_.

So frank doesn't sleep, like, at all and he's half-surprised that the world is still turning when he gets out of bed, and his hope that maybe last night was just a stress dream is dashed when he sees the blanket on the hall floor. And he figures that his career and his life are basically over. Still, he showers and pours coffee in a travel thermos and is very, deeply annoyed with the universe when he realizes that his car's still at the station, especially since he can't exactly call his _partner_ and ask for a ride in. So he walks, and it takes him, like, 45 minutes, which means he's 35 minutes late. And it starts fucking raining on the way because of course it does, so by the time he shows up at the station he is soaking wet and even more tired than he had been the night before and thoroughly pissed off. And when he runs into Brian outside his office, well, that's just the fucking icing on the shit cake, isn't it, because he walked all the fuck the way here in the fucking rain to get hauled off for sexual harassment re-training and probably a fucking demotion. Great.

"Car trouble?" Brian asks, and Frank glares at him, and squelches his way into his office without a word. Brian doesn't follow him in, which is weird, normally when Brian gives him what-for he at least closes the door behind him. "Well, I have news to cheer you up, sunshine. Your case solved itself for you."

Frank stops short of throwing all of his possessions on the floor in a wet heap, and swivels to look back at Brian, who's got the smug grin of a guy who knows more than you that Frank longs to punch off but refrains in order to hear what's causing it. "Your perp on the John Doe murder turned himself in this morning. Brought in his gun, and it's a match on the ballistics. Congratulations, detective."

Now Frank does dump all of his shit on the floor, so he can collapse into his desk chair with an almighty groan of frustration. "Schechter, you motherfucker, that's supposed to make me feel better? That's not a win! That's a - fucking forfeit. God damn it.”

"Oh, stop bitching. you'll have a new case on your desk by, like, fourteen hundred, and then you can go right back to being the manic son of a bitch you are." Brian turns to leave, but before he does, he pauses. "By the way. How'd your rookie do? Way?"

Frank tries not to let the way his stomach drops out show on his face. He buries it in his coffee, pretends to think about it for awhile, and then says with as little emotion as he can muster, "I think Detective Way will make a great addition to the team." Brian nods, satisfied, and moves to go - Frank stops him by adding, "But I don't want him for a partner. I don't want to have to look at him, Schechter, I mean it. When you assign cases, you put us at opposite ends of the fucking rotation, got it?"

Brian, who is used to Frank's partner-aversion, just rolls his eyes. "Someday, Iero, you gotta learn to play nice. Like I would make one of these guys suffer _you_ as a partner, anyway." 

Frank pretends that doesn't sting, somewhere deep down. Why would it? He's Frank fucking Iero. He's the best fucking homicide detective on this force, and the second best to ever do it. He doesn't need a fucking partner.

He only sees Gerard once that day, when he's on his way to lunch. Gerard doesn't see him - he's busy talking to Schechter about something, at top speed, and Brian looks kind of floored about whatever it is. Frank's too far away to hear what the subject is, and he doesn't especially give a shit, either. His former partner's probably hot on some case Schechter mentioned. Whatever. He's got a vegan cucumber roll with his name on it waiting for him.

That night, he heads into the watering hole for the first time in - shit, he can't even remember the last time he was in here, that's weird. Dewees spots him walking in, and for the first time, he doesn't grin that weird grin at Frank as he takes his usual barstool. In fact, he's _frowning_. Like, in disapproval. It's so fucking foreign on Dewees' face that Frank wonders for a second if he, like, forgot to pay his tab last time or something. "You're back," says Dewees, and what the fuck, he sounds _disappointed_ about it?

"Yeah, your favoritest and bestest customer is back and ready to party, Dewees. So why do you look so fucking sad about it, you dick?" Frank slaps down his card, and Dewees folds his arms. Doesn't even touch it. Just looks at Frank like he's Frank's fucking _dad_ and he just caught Frank sneaking back in at fuck-off in the morning or some shit. What gives?

"I was hoping you wouldn't come back," says Dewees. And Frank is so stunned that his jaw literally drops and that speaks fucking volumes, okay, Frank is a goddamn homicide detective in goddamn Newark, New Jersey, it takes a lot to surprise a guy like Frank.

"Dewees. Dude. What the fuck are you talking about," Frank manages to say, and laughs, even though nothing's funny. "Come on, I've had a weird fucking day and I want to get so drunk I forget where I live. You know, like the good old days."

Dewees just sighs, and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand before bracing both palms against the bar top. "Frank. I'm a bartender. You know they _train_ us to look for problem behavior? Like, not because we really give a shit, generally, they train us so we can spot the drunks and not overserve 'em lest we get sued up to our eyeballs. But it means, you sad fuck, that I know that you were having a really, really fucking hard time. I can spot that shit a mile off." 

Frank, still staggered, just blinks. 

"And like I said, usually I'm just kinda whatever about it, right? But you came in so much I actually started giving a shit about, like, your wellbeing. Worrying about you. As a person. It was really weird and it still is weird for me, so." Dewees shrugs. "Anyway. The only time you ever came in here not looking to drink your brain cells into the sunset was when you came in with that one amazingly beautiful guy with the eyelashes. What was his name?"

"Gerard," says frank, faintly.

"Yeah. Frank, man, that was the one and only time you didn't look like you were being haunted by the ghost of a fucking Victorian child or something. And when you stopped coming in after that night, I figured that meant you finally found something that made you happy enough that you didn't have to come in. And I was really stoked for you, Frank." He stands up straight, and shoves Frank's card across the bar top until it digs into the skin of Frank's forearm. "I'm not serving you. Not tonight.”

"Dewees, what the _fuck_ ," Frank chokes out, but Dewees just looks back at him with his eyebrows raised, and Frank realizes he doesn't have much of a leg to stand on, here. He's a cop, he knows the drill. If you're refused service, you leave. Frank scoffs, snatches his card back up, and jumps down off the barstool. "Fine. whatever. Fuck you too, _James_." He storms out the door, and almost smacks directly into Jamia, who is reaching for the door handle and also, is in tears.

"Frank Anthony Iero, you fucking asshole, do you know how to use a fucking PHONE!" she screams at him, in hysterics, and Frank is having such intense fucking emotional whiplash that he just grabs onto her shoulders like that'll help ground him. And maybe he needs it, because holy shit, he's catching up, it's Jamia. Here. Alone. On a night she's supposed to have PJ. 

"Jamia, J, calm down, what - what are you doing here? What's going on?" Frank lets go of her for a moment, long enough to pat down his pockets and curse when he realizes he doesn't have his phone. He must have left it at in his car when he dropped it off at his building. "Where's PJ?" he asks, and it's the exact wrong fucking thing to say, because Jamia dissolves, sobbing, against Frank's chest.

"She didn't come home from school," Jamia hiccups between breaths. Frank feels the bottom of his stomach fall out. "I called the office and they said she was released to her after school dance class, but her dance teacher said she never showed and she was about to call me to ask about her, and - and I've been trying to call you, because if anyone could figure it out it would be the fucking _detective_ , but you haven't been answering and I swear to God, Frank, if you've been drinking while our daughter is god knows where then I will _KILL YOU MYSELF_!”

"I haven’t, I haven’t, I just got here,” says Frank, and suddenly he has never been so grateful for James Dewees in his entire life, holy shit, he would run back in and kiss him if he wasn’t busy Fully Panicking. “You called our parents?”

"Yes, I fucking called our fucking parents! I called everyone!” Jamia wipes furiously under her eyes. “Nobody’s seen her since three this afternoon, and she hasn’t been home, and I have been fucking _terrified,_ and you’ve been at a BAR - “

"Jamia, listen!” Frank grabs Jamia by the shoulders again. “I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry I didn’t answer my phone and I’m sorry I came here and I’m sorry that this is fucking happening at all, but we’re gonna figure this out. Okay? We’ll find her, she’s probably just at a friend’s house and forgot to call. It’s gonna be fine. I will make it fine.”

Jamia glares at him until her face crumples, and watching her makes Frank's chest hurt. He pulls her into a crushing hug. “God, Frank, I'm so fucking scared,” she whispers.

Frank’s a homicide detective, true, but he still knows the procedure for a missing kid. (Never thought it would apply to his _own_ kid. But this is what Frank gets for fucking with the karmic balance of the universe, apparently.) He sends Jamia back to her place, even though she yells at him and begs him not to make her sit and wait, because he knows the first place PJ will end up assuming she's not - is Jamia’s. He sprints home to make sure she’s not at his apartment, rips the place apart in case she’s hiding for some reason (ignores the blanket on the floor). Then, he calls Brian, who calls Craig, the lead detective in the missing persons department. Finally, and even though he doesn’t really want to, Frank calls Gerard.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up,” he mutters at the buzzing dial tone, until it clicks. “Gerard, it’s Frank. Listen, I don’t have a lot of time to explain, but PJ’s gone missing and it’s sort of all hands on deck - “

_"What?_ ” Gerard screeches down the line, so loud Frank winces and has to pull the phone away from his ear. “ _Oh my God, for how long? Did you call the station already?_ ”

Frank feels a brief flash of sympathy for how Jamia must’ve felt when he asked her that question. “Of course I did, Brian’s mobilizing practically all of North Jersey right now. Um, it’s fine if you can’t - "

" _Shut the fuck up._ ” Frank hears a thump on the other end, and the faint sound of Gerard swearing. “ _What do you need? I can meet you at your place. Or the station. Or wherever. Where the fuck did I put my jacket? I’m coming right now. Are you doing okay? Do you need anything?_ ”

Jesus, it’s been less than one day without working together and Frank realizes he actually _missed_ Gerard’s motor mouth. He runs a hand over his face and fights the urge to smile. “I’m hanging in there. Thanks. Um, I’m gonna be at mine until my mom can get here, but you should head to the station, they’re gonna have more use for you than I do.”

Frank practically vibrates out of his skin waiting for his mom to show up to he can drive out to the division as fast as he fucking can, armed with his favorite photo of PJ - posing in front of the curtain at one of her recitals, all dressed up and grinning to show off her missing teeth. Craig and Brian let him join the huddle long enough to pass around the photo and explain the situation, before Brian makes him go sit in the break room because Frank can’t actually spearhead this investigation, idiot, it’s his own kid. Gerard comes in while Frank’s putting on (terrible) coffee. He’s not wearing his usual sport coat/shirt/tie/jeans that he wears for work, he’s wearing a Batman t-shirt and a leather jacket that’s a little too small for him and high top Converse, and he looks like he sprinted all the way here, and the first thing he does is throw both arms around Frank in their first hug, ever. He smells like cigarettes.

"Fuck, Frank, I’m so sorry,” he says, sounding near tears himself, and Frank just kinda snaps, and has a small breakdown right there.

Gerard sits him down at the table and Frank tells him about his greatest failure as a detective, from back when he was a rookie like Gerard. A guy murdered his wife and abducted his daughter, fled south from their house in upstate New York, and they finally caught up to him at a motel by the airport. There was a standoff between the guy and the first-responding uniforms, Frank was the first detective on scene, and when he made a wrong move trying to talk the guy down, the guy shot his daughter and then himself. And Frank's always been terrified of something like that happening to PJ, and he won't be able to save her, and now that she's disappeared his worst nightmare is now coming true, and he's about to have a second, larger breakdown when Brian comes in to update Frank on the situation. He looks visibly surprised to see Gerard there, but doesn't comment, just tells Frank they're sending guys to interview Jamia/the school administration/anybody who saw PJ that day, as well as to hospitals, playgrounds, parks, and businesses near the school. Standard procedure. Craig interviews Frank about his whereabouts since PJ disappeared, which is also standard procedure, but pisses Frank off anyway. Once Craig gets a report back that Frank's apartment is clear, Craig gives an okay for Frank to join in the search, even though technically since Frank's PJ's dad he shouldn't be allowed to participate, but they all know better than to try and keep Frank from doing it. Frank and Gerard strike out for Branch Brook, the north section in Forest Hill and near PJ's school. They meet up with a couple patrol officers, grab flashlights, and set off to search the park on foot. 

It's Gerard who finds her, curled up hiding inside a tube slide on one of the playgrounds, shivering and scared. Frank almost passes out with relief when Gerard calls his cell and he hears PJ's voice on the other end; he makes record time doubling back to the playground where Gerard's got her wrapped in his jacket and hugging her close but awkwardly on one side, stroking her hair and singing "Part of Your World" under his breath.

"I think her arm's broken," he tells Frank, as Frank runs up to the two of them. PJ bursts into fresh tears as soon as she spots Frank, and he drops down to his knees to hug her as best he can.

Her arm is, in fact, broken. The entire story makes Frank want to take a gun and the fastest patrol car in the fleet and start driving around cracking skulls. PJ had been walking to her dance class - the studio was practically kitty corner to the school, it _should_ have been safe, it usually is, but Frank is furious with himself anyway - when someone grabbed her, and tossed her in the back of a car. Frank (being a good cop dad) did tell her what to do if that happened to her, which was to try and jump out at a red light and run, but she couldn't get the door open in time and fell out while the car was already moving. The fall broke her arm, and she ran into the park and hid in the slide, where she stayed until Gerard heard her crying.

They take her to the hospital, where Jamia meets them, along with Brian and Craig and half the Newark police department probably. Brian congratulates Gerard and makes a passing comment about how the department's gonna be sorely lacking without a detective like him, which Makes Frank's Ears Perk Up. When it's just the Ieros and Gerard left in PJ's room, Gerard makes his excuses and slips out to the cafeteria for coffee (though not before Jamia gets in a CRUSHING hug to say thank you). Frank tails him down and finds him lighting up a cigarette just outside the cafeteria loading dock. He asks Gerard what Brian meant about lacking a detective. Gerard doesn't answer for a long time, but when Frank refuses to leave until Gerard tells him what's up, he admits that he asked to be transferred out of the homicide department. Frank, shocked, asks why; Gerard doesn't want to tell him that, either, but because Frank's an asshole, he keeps pressing until Gerard finally snaps and yells that having feelings for the best detective in the department makes it really fucking difficult to work in it. He stamps out his cigarette and asks Frank to tell PJ he's sorry he couldn't stick around, and then he leaves.

And Frank is, of course, Stunned. But also, hey, Gerard has feelings for him. Interesting.

Fast forward a couple weeks or so. Gerard's been avoiding Frank at the station, or at least it seems that way to Frank. On his lunch one day, Frank's in Craig's neck of the woods on the fourth floor (which they share with the narcotics division, i.e., Gerard's new stomping grounds) pestering him for details about the investigation into the guys who tried to grab PJ, and as their conversation's winding down, Frank spots Gerard heading for the elevator. He dashes out to catch him before the doors close. Gerard's clearly hesitant to talk, but he can't help but ask how PJ's doing.

"She's good. A little too excited about her cast. She keeps calling it her robot arm," says Frank, which makes Gerard laugh. The doors open on the lobby.

"That's awesome. Tell her I said hi!"

"She's been asking about you." Frank keeps pace with Gerard across the lobby and out the front door toward the parking lot. "She wants to know when you're coming over to watch The Little Mermaid again."

Gerard frowns. "Well, um. I don't think - "

"What? You don't like us anymore?"

"I didn't say that." Gerard pulls out his car keys and starts to move toward his driver's side door, but Frank blocks him, and he stops with a sigh. "Frank, look, I'm on a case and I'm kind of busy, yeah? Someone found a kilo of heroin in a bush at a playground and I'm trying to follow up on - "

"I want to make you dinner," Frank interrupts. Gerard stutters, then stops, and just stands there staring at Frank with his mouth open and the apples of his cheeks turning pink, which is hilarious and also kind of adorable. 

"Excuse me?" he says after a moment, high-pitched and strangled.

"I want to make you dinner," Frank repeats, and grins. "I used to be good at it, back before I started subsisting entirely on takeout noodles. I just don't usually have anyone to cook for, except PJ, and she was a real picky eater for awhile there and she didn't want to eat anything I made."

Gerard huffs out a laugh at that, at least. He shoves his hand up through his hair at the nape of his neck and makes it all stick up in that crazy way it does. "Why - why do you want to make me dinner?"

Frank buries his hands in his pockets. "Because I'm, like, half in love with you already, and, I dunno. This drunk guy at a bar one time told me something his grandma said about following his heart and it sounded like good advice." He tries to sound casual about it, but his heart is _hammering_ in his chest and he can feel his face getting hot and his palms are sweaty inside his pockets. Gerard, meanwhile, has gone so still that Frank isn't certain he's still breathing. Frank bites down hard on the inside of his lip. "I mean. You're beautiful, you're smart, you're funny and you have a voice like something out of my dreams, and PJ adores you. I'd be a fucking idiot if I didn't at least give it a shot. So."

Gerard has not blinked once since Frank said the love word. He's holding onto his car keys and bag strap so tightly his fingers are white, and he doesn't say anything. Doesn't move. Until suddenly he inhales like he's coming up from underwater, his eyebrows doing something straight out of a Marian painting while the rims of his eyes start sparkling and all he manages is a wet-sounding " _Frank"_ before he drops everything he's holding and launches himself mouth-first at Frank.

Dinner is lovely, even though Frank no doubt burns the shit out of whatever it is and they have to order takeout after all. Gerard tricks out PJ's cast with a Sharpie so it looks like a real robot arm. At work, they spend all their lunches together, cases permitting, and are thoroughly nauseating. (Brian learns Very Quickly that if Frank is on lunch and his office door is closed, then it is _imperative_ that he knock before opening it.) Slowly but surely, Gerard infiltrates Frank's apartment until it's downright _pretty_ , and there's more than three pieces of furniture in it, and Gerard's favorite three coffee mugs all end up in Frank's cabinets, and when Frank asks him to move in Gerard indignantly asks him what he's talking about because _clearly_ Gerard has _been_ living here, Christ. Wednesdays are still Frank and PJ's night, just for the two of them, but now on the weekends that Frank has custody she gets _another_ date night with Gerard who is so excited about them he tears up whenever he tells Frank what their plans are that week. They sing Disney songs together in the kitchen while Gerard makes breakfast - he's got a penchant for breakfast foods, which is great, because Frank is only barely capable of cereal that early in the day. For PJ's birthday, Frank, Gerard, Jamia, and Jamia's boyfriend (Tall Blond Guy, aka Everett) pool their resources to take her to Disney World for the first time, and when PJ gets to meet Ariel, she seizes Gerard's hand to drag him over with her and loudly announces to Ariel and everyone else in earshot, "My dad can sing JUST like you! Dad, sing the song!"

Gerard does not sing the song, because he instantly bursts into tears instead.

THE END!


End file.
